


The Pearl Dress

by livebynight



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/M, Light Voyeurism, One dead dress, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, plot what plot?, pointless smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-05 23:40:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14629464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livebynight/pseuds/livebynight
Summary: Ivar literally cannot contain himself at a fundraising event held at the Lothbrok Estate.





	The Pearl Dress

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Keep Your Silence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10732503) by [livebynight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/livebynight/pseuds/livebynight). 



> I have the oddest feeling about this because it's officially my first completed WIP since updating Keep Your Silence. So be gentle with me! And hopefully this is a good sign of things to come... Thanks for all the support Xx.

He couldn’t get enough of it.

The way she moved, the way the pearls seemed to glitter every which direction under the bright lights, rolling with the sway of her hips or cinching to her breasts when she took a deep breath.

He’d fucked himself. Royally. Or at the very least - should’ve saved the tiny dress for his eyes only.

When Ubbe and Hvitserk settled on a theme for the fundraiser, Ivar practically jumped at the opportunity to select the perfect outfit for Lisbet. She, of course, was less picky about it. Was plenty happy to go with a generic Flapper dress, maybe even add some extra flare with a feathered headpiece and lacy gloves to match. But that wasn’t acceptable to Ivar. Not when she could outshine every human being for miles. Not when he could reap the reactions of those who’d come to drool and fawn over her for the evening.

Hell, by the end of the night they’d probably earn twice as much in donations for the cause. That’s how he’d console himself, in any case.. While he nursed a hard-on as he maneuvered through the packed Estate, not once taking his eyes off of Lisbet. Even as she was surrounded by potential donors, chatting and laughing, being offered flutes of champagne.

It wasn’t the original plan to have her schmooze to the guests - and Ivar admittedly had no qualm with having her play armcandy all night - but once she was swarmed in waves of attention, Hvitserk managed to scrounge up a basket and shove it into her hands to collect some cash.

The idea worked; the basket already had to be emptied twice after being loaded with wads of bills and checks.

Ivar’s reverie as he watched on was suddenly interrupted by a rude smack to his gut, sending a slosh of scotch over the rim of his glass.

He angrily turned his head, nearly snarling at his brother for the disturbance.

“Looking good there, huh, Ivar?” Hvitserk remarked, tilting the mouth of his beer bottle in Lisbet’s direction.

Ivar could do no more than grunt and take a hard swallow of his drink. After the purchase itself and the appropriate tailoring, the dress was a small fortune. Made entirely of embroidered pearls that were a stark white, with glinting silver to accentuate each curve of the skin-tight bodice and low-cut brassiere. The colors themselves went beautifully with Lisbet’s brown skin, appearing all the more tan and flawless, as if she were glowing.

The skirt could barely be considered existent; comprised of even more pearls, sewn into strands that danced around her thighs - because of course, her perfectly luscious thighs would be on display. Everything else might have been too if Lisbet hadn’t opted to wear a pair of white satin boyshorts.

Entirely worth the cost, but he knew the damned thing wouldn’t survive in one piece. Not once he could finally get his hands on her.

“In fact, I believe you have done her a disservice - you’re barely in costume!”

“And look as ridiculous as you?” Ivar muttered.

Hvitserk indulged himself in some fun, clad in cheesy 20’s Gangster-wear. He’d splurged on a fitted black pin-striped suit, though now he was sans blazer so his authentic leather holster hung visibly over his shoulders. A toy gun nestled on either side that shot darts for when he felt particularly chummy. He had even slicked his hair back into a bun at the nape of his neck so he could wear a fedora, tipped with a red feather.

“If by ridiculous you mean _dangerously_ handsome, then yes,” he cheerfully retorted, side-eyeing Ivar’s own wardrobe. Ivar didn’t like participating in costumes. Simply wore black high-waisted trousers and a white silk blouse with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was only upon Ubbe’s insistence that he put on a pair of outdated suspenders to go with his black tie.

He rolled his eyes. “Piss off.”

Hvitserk snickered to himself, followed the gaze of his younger brother until raising his brows and quirking his lips at the sight before them. “Best take care of that semi soon, brother. Ways to go yet.”

Ivar shot him a glare heated enough to make the hair stand straight on the back of one’s neck, but Hvitserk merely smiled, blatantly chuckled. Tipped his beer in salute as he departed to peruse the Estate some more.

One scotch down and Ivar milled through the crowd, thankful for the way it parted for him, helping him reach Lisbet all the faster. His hand snatched her elbow before he’d even stopped moving, causing her to gasp and whip around with a start, tearing her attention from the guests around her.

“Are you all right?”

He forced a pleasant smile, which perhaps would’ve been slightly less unnerving if his cheeks weren’t flushed and his pupils weren’t dilated to give his eyes a dark overcast as they drank in all but her face. Flitting over her collarbones, and how the matching pearl choker tightened around her throat when she swallowed. The updo had been a good choice; her thick, curly tendrils bounced over her bare shoulders. Ivar had to grit his teeth together to keep from groaning aloud at the sight of it all.

“Would you like to have a cigarette with me?”

There was a hint of relief in her eyes and he smirked despite himself. The attention was getting to her and she needed a break.

With the main event being held inside, there were few people out on the dimly lit back porch. Not exactly the type of privacy Ivar needed, but it’d be suitable for now.

He guided her to the farthest, most shadowy end of the porch, barely needing to coax her into leaning back against the cool brick wall, relaxing on the heels that brought her height further up his chest. And no sooner had she held up her hand for a cigarette than Ivar propped a crutch on the wall next to her, grabbed her by the back of the neck, and dragged her mouth to his. He was already breathing heavy by the time their lips sealed, moving erratically, teeth catching on the plump flesh before driving his tongue between them.

There was a second of stunned silence, Lisbet’s voice dying in her throat as Ivar kissed her harder and deeper, pressing into her with his body weight to keep her pinned. His thumb toyed with the pearl choker, flicking over the smooth beads, restraining himself from tearing it in all his yearning. He struggled to quiet his moan as he tilted his head, sucking the sweet champagne from her tongue, and rolled his hips against her stomach. It was limited friction through their clothes but made him shudder all the same, so stiff within his pants it was borderline painful.

Lisbet wasn’t entirely ignorant to his predicament; being unaware to his heated stares for as long and as intensely as his was like letting a swift right hook go by unnoticed. She gave in to his assault, gripping onto both of his burly shoulders, feeling a thrill of power that she would put him in such a state simply by wearing a dress, when it should’ve been _him_ working the crowd that night, not her.

His touch grew bolder regardless of their potential audience. Barely pausing to take a breath before running his coarse hand down her soft skin, pearls molding into his palm when he clenched a tight fist around her breast.

“Ivar,” Lisbet tutted, finally pulling apart from his kiss.

It barely deterred him; he moved for her neck instead, noisily suckling, then nipping her skin, hand drifting further down her body, melding over her waist and drifting over her hip.

“Ivar, I don’t think this is entirely appropriate for a charity event,” she murmured, though she shivered and her eyelashes fluttered at his hot, persistent mouth. His response sounded something like a mumbled ‘ _fuck them_ ’ and he brushed past the curtain of pearls around her thighs, grabbed her ass in retaliation.

The next utterance was his name in a hushed squeal, Lisbet’s fingertips dug into his shoulders, only for him to attempt spreading her cheeks apart, sneaking his hand beneath her underwear.

“Ivar!” someone called, and they recognized Ubbe’s voice at once.

Lisbet froze while Ivar hardly pulled away from her. Growled possessively in her ear at their intruder. Their entanglement didn’t keep Ubbe from approaching - luckily from the direction opposite of Ivar’s wandering hand; he still hadn’t released Lisbet, fingers tracing the hem of her panties as he raised his head to sneer at Ubbe.

“Don’t you have a fundraiser to host?”

Ubbe rolled his eyes as he sauntered over, pocket watch swinging from his buttoned waistcoat. “I _am_ hosting. There are a few reporters that want a family photo.”

“But _you_ are the polit-”

“ _All_ the brothers, Ivar.”

He growled even louder this time, pulling away from Lisbet’s ass to settle a firm grip at her waist, _more_ than reluctant to let her go, and Ubbe didn’t budge from his spot. Raised his brows at the locked pair, lifting his newsboy cap to amusedly scratch his head.

“Is that how we treat our generous volunteers?” He winked at Lisbet, ignoring the daggers from Ivar’s gaze. Half-turned to take his leave. “Unhand the woman and come back inside.”

“You heard the man,” Lisbet sassed once they were left alone, then at the snarl Ivar directed at her - “Oh, come on, it’s just a few lousy photos.”

He gave her an abrupt, wet kiss on the mouth before grasping her wrist. Led her hand between their bodies so he could smother her palm over the crotch of his pants. She arched a brow at what she found there, solid, thick and straining. Tried not to hum in delight as her grip reflexively curled around him.

“You see what you’ve done to me, woman?” he asked seriously.

Her grin was smug as she nodded slowly, voice teasing. “Are you regretting the dress?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He scoffed and set his forehead on hers, suppressing a chill while Lisbet dared to rub him gently through his pants. “I will deal with the Press… but we are not finished.” He cupped her jaw, thumb outstretched to brush over her bottom lip, tugging gently. “I will find you after.” He bared his teeth when she obediently let him prod into her mouth, near salivating at the touch of her tongue. “You have made me suffer, Lisbet,” he said. “I expect you to fix it.”

His eyes stayed glued, watching the digit slip from her lips with a thin coat of saliva, then looked at her expectantly.

“Yes, Ivar.”

  


In the next half an hour, a second glass of scotch was all that could get Ivar to cooperate with the Press and their want of a photoshoot. Deal with the poking elbow of Ubbe to smile and pose, even as he had to reposition his crutches in front of him to further obscure the erection that refused to soften the littlest bit since parting from Lisbet.

He could barely focus, attention wavering at the meagerest glance of shimmering white that teased the corner of his eye. And when they finally did lock eyes, at too far of a distance - through the sitting room and passed the foyer - there was nothing to stop Ivar from briskly abandoning his company.

Lisbet’s smile grew coy as she watched him make way through the Estate for her. Goadingly playful even as Ivar wore a look on his face that said he’d bend her over the closest, most solid surface once given the chance.

It was partly the champagne that emboldened her, drove her to toss her updo over her shoulder, bat her eyelashes at him before turning away to make a beeline for the spare office down the hall. But there were few times Lisbet put herself on such display. And with the pearls dangling over her hips and thighs, bouncing with each step she made, turning her pace into a sashay.. the sound of jazz filling the house.. there wasn’t any way to feel but alluring.

Her heels clicked on the wood as she went, not daring to send back a spare glance while Ivar stalked her like prey, moving through the crowd with little genteel.

The sounds of the festivities dulled when he shut the door behind him, soundproof enough to make the lock sliding into place send a flutter through her stomach, anticipation thud in her chest as she turned and leaned back on the oak desk to face him.

Ivar didn’t stop until they were an arm’s length apart, heart racing, eyeing her like a fresh meal. Both grips twitching around his crutches, itching to touch her, frame the curves of her waist. He hungrily licked his lips, watching how her chest heaved and flushed as he inched even closer.

Lisbet smiled, making the first move to reach out and tangle her fingers around his tie, glancing up at him with a small pout. “How do you want me, big, bad, gangster man?”

He ignored the shiver down his spine. One crutch clattered haphazardly to the floor, and he snatched her by the pearl choker, this time not caring if the fragile thing snapped under his hold. He twisted it in his fist, taking immense pleasure in the way her expression fell, lips parting as it began to restrict her airway.

“Dear Lisbet,” he husked, giving another tug until he could feel her bated gasps. “There is little time for what I would like to do to you right now… I would have taken you outside were it not for my idiot brother.”

Another jerk at her neck, tightening the necklace even more. Ivar’s eyes were wide, lust-blown; posture threatening as he leered over her. “You would have enjoyed it, wouldn’t you, Lis’? Wanted me to fuck you in front of all those people. Show them who you belong to. Make you scream for them.”

Lisbet gulped, pussy throbbing with arousal, knees falling so weak she had to brace herself with both hands on the desk. “Filthy little bint,” he went on, tilting his head to snag her lip between his teeth.

Her lack of answer was displeasing - one more commanding tug and the choker snapped in his clutches. Lisbet staggered back, caught herself on an elbow as a cascade of pearls rained down her chest, rolled along the hem of her brassiere and pattered onto the desk and floor.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ivar swore, immediately plunging for the bundle of cleavage in his face, nosing away stray pearls to run his tongue over her breast before greedily sucking. He couldn’t mark her just yet, not for their precious donors to see her indecent. Instead, he mapped a trail of wet kisses back to her neck, tongue darting beneath her earlobe. “On your knees, Lisbet,” he murmured. “I want your mouth on my cock.”

Goosebumps rose on her dampened skin; she whimpered, but they hastily traded places. Ivar leaning back on the desk, perching enough weight on the edge of it so that he could set his other crutch aside and work his suspenders over his shoulders. A simple maneuver, but one that made Lisbet swoon, made her want to tear his shirt open and mount him on that very surface, even as he hurriedly made to unbutton his pants.

She batted his hands away, dropping to her knees in the same fluid motion of dragging his zipper down, and pulled his trousers loose in her face. In the thin briefs she could see him bulging, a dark wet spot showing through the cotton that made her mouth water.

“Look at the mess you have already made,” Ivar said, voice shaky as he breathed hard. His hips twitched when her nimble fingers slid into his fly, gently grasping him, then slowly drawing him out through the hole.

It took all he had not to grab her by the hair and ram into the back of her throat as she eyed his cock; a blooming dark red at the tip, still weeping for her. “Clean it up.”

She gripped his shaft more firmly and he nearly went cross-eyed when she obediently swiped the flat of her tongue over his head, tasting the warm saltiness of precum before suckling him into her hot mouth. Ivar chomped on the inside of his cheek, biting back a loud moan of sweet relief as she gazed at him from under her lashes. Unhinged her jaw to take more of his thick cock.

“ _Fuck_ yes. Just like that, Lisbet.” He crooned deep in his chest, hissing and tilting his head back, quickly becoming certain that he wouldn’t last long.

He thread his fingers through her hair, thrusting himself deeper into her mouth until she smacked at his wrist; a silent reminder not to muss it up. He grunted in frustration but curled a white-knuckled fist over the edge of the desk, settling for that while his other hand covered hers around the base of his cock. Guided her to stroke him tightly, steadily picking up pace with her mouth as she sucked him down the further, slathering him with spit.

“That’s it,” he said again looking down at her. Practically mewled at the sight of his cock disappearing between her lips, completely filling her mouth. Seeing her nostrils flare, forcing herself to keep breathing. His own chest hitched when her tonsils fluttered at his sensitive, swelled head. He made a strangled sound, letting go of her hand to cup the nape of her neck. Held her in place, and thrust deeper still, starting to pant when he could hear her gag.

“So perfect,” Ivar praised, slurring his words. “Such a good girl.”

His other hand joined the first at her neck and he fucked harder into her mouth, teeth gritting together from the tingling sensation at the base of his spine. The thrusts were short and abrupt, and it didn’t take long to get her choking; have her sputtering from the corners of her mouth until he forced her off of him.

Lisbet coughed twice then gasped for air, blinking rapidly and lewdly licking her lips. Braced herself with her hands on his hips, his solid cock looming before her mouth. All he wanted was to douse that pretty face in his cum, watch it trickle down her cheeks.

“You best suck me clean, little slut,” he warned, taking hold of himself again. He prodded at her lips, tapping the tip at her mouth till they parted for him. “Lest you would like to show our guests a new set of pearls.”

She opened wide and he drove right back in, moaning aloud in time with her muffled squeal of adjustment. He’d restrained himself thus far, but now couldn’t keep from clasping his hand atop her head, hoping somewhere in his mind not to mess up her hair, but far more focused on the feel of her heated mouth, how she gagged with each intrusive thrust, and finally the sudden drop in his stomach.

His body went rigid and a guttural wail flew from his lungs, at once spilling his load into her mouth. Lisbet struggled to contain it, grasped tightly onto his trousers to hold steady, clenched her eyes shut and just kept swallowing. Determined to capture each ounce of his hot cum.

Ivar’s chest rumbled with an approving hum, his good girl doing as told. Even with a subtle shake to her head, she sopped up every drop of him as his cock slowly slid from her mouth, releasing the tip with a soft _pop_.

A little giddy, Ivar took her hand and helped her come to a wobbly stand while she sucked her lips and flexed her jaw. He marveled at how much tension had ebbed from him, slightly slumped over the desk as Lisbet nestled herself at his side, heaving a deep breath in the crook of his neck.

“All better?” she asked.

“Remarkably,” he affirmed, palms soothing over her back, nuzzling his chin at her temple. “Quite deserving of a reward, my love.”

She all but purred in his ear, then kissed his neck, hands instantly becoming fervent on his body, sculpting over his chest and shoulders. Ivar basked in it for a moment, tilting his head this way and that under the attack of her mouth, feeling her brisk breath at his throat. She eventually reached his lips and coaxed them apart, and they rapidly fell in sync, kissing deeply, clutching tightly at one another, Ivar savoring the taste of himself on her tongue.

It was only when she started to needily rub her hips into his, pressing against his softening cock that Ivar pried her off with a wry grin. “Too bad it will have to wait.”

So focused was she on feeling him up, seeking her own relief of the persistent ache between her thighs that she thought she might’ve misheard him. “ _Huh_?”

Ivar tried not to laugh at her put-out face. “I told you there was too little time for all I wanted, Lisbet.” She appeared skeptical, narrowed her eyes and moved to coerce him - but all he offered was a chaste kiss on her forehead before letting her go. Even went as far as to give her a small nudge so he could readjust himself in his pants.

“But Ivar -”

“ _Behave_ ,” he scolded lightly, then zipped his trousers with extra flourish just so she could hear it. “I think I should enjoy watching you suffer as I have.”

Lisbet crossed her arms with a huff, frowned so bitterly that he took the slightest amount of pity on her, pulled her close for a last kiss, so heavy it sent her back into a daze.

“Making me chase after you.. Dressed like _that_.” He clucked his tongue at the roof of his mouth, tutting with a shake of his head. “I will make it good for you.”

And with the way he minded his manners afterward, Lisbet certainly hoped so.

 

For the rest of the evening, Ivar showed little discretion in his means to keep her frustrated, keep her anxious for when they could finally retire to his bedroom. Nearly half of the conversations she had were interrupted by a tugging grip on her wrist or a summoning leer from across whatever room she was in. Only to let herself be whisked away to a dark corner, for another cigarette break. Anywhere Ivar could grope or tease her enough to leave her begging for more.

Over the next couple of hours, the guests had barely dwindled; perhaps became even rowdier once food had been served and it came time for raffle drawings, with prizes like lavish spa retreats, fine dining and upscale suites. Lisbet joined Ivar at a busy table where he sipped another drink, having been oddly sociable as the alcohol weakened his poise.  

“Giving up on your charitable duties so soon, Lis’?” he smartly asked.

She glared at him as she took her seat, a freshly poured gin and tonic in her hand. “I think I’ve been generous enough tonight, no?”

His face split into a wolfish grin just as the crowd quieted down, turning their attention to Ubbe who’d taken center stage with his wife, orating their thanks for all attendees and their proceeds before announcing the raffle winners.

Ivar pulled her chair closer and drew his arm across her shoulders, leaning in to speak lowly in her ear. “I think you just cannot stand to be apart from me any longer.. Bothered as you are.”

Lisbet ignored him - tried to, in any case, honing in on Ubbe’s speech, though his words may have well been static noise for all she could make out of them. Her skin was practically tingling while Ivar insisted on brushing her hair aside to casually mouth at her neck, a quiet rumble reverberating at her racing pulse.

Of course, he hadn’t been able to stay away from her either...

Since she hadn’t yet made a move to fight him, he only grew bolder - turning in his seat to slide his free hand between her thighs, calluses rough on her skin. She fidgeted under his touch, more so when he pulled away from her neck to stare at her with open scrutiny.

“Admit it,” he said, just as the crowd _ooh’d_ at the first drawing.

The more time Lisbet took to respond, the further his palm snaked up her leg, scraping the blunt of his nails along the way. And luckily each head of the table was turned in the complete opposite direction as he reached just beyond the hem of her skirt, far enough that he could feel the heat of her on his fingertips. So enticing it was, that he could hardly restrain himself, heart pounding in his chest. He pressed onward, eyes unfocused, holding his breath until he could cup his hand over her pelvis - released it in a heavy gust at the dampness of her panties.

Lisbet gasped, taking hold of his forearm. “Ivar, please -”

He appeared confused as his trance broke, watching how her face twisted; a slight tremble to her lips. He lit up with a small smile and tipped his forehead to hers. “So wet…” he rasped, completely deaf to the applause in the background. “Did I do this to you?”

A response was needless after what he’d been putting her through; she was so sensitive that his simple touch, the light pet of his thumb, sent a jolt down her spine and made her eyes roll back.

Still, she refrained from speaking. Grip tight on his arm, desperate for him to continue but potentially mortified if he actually did. She glanced fleetingly around their surroundings, slightly relieved that no one seemed to be paying them any mind, while Ivar barely showed any concern for her plight. Greedy fingers toyed with the crotch of her underwear, blindly searching for their lining, and her thighs shook to stay spread for him under the table. Lisbet was too aroused, too needy, and frankly too buzzed to force him to stop. And when he stretched them aside, baring her to him, it took all she had not to loudly moan, startling those around them.

“You are so beautiful, Lisbet,” he said. Her stomach flip-flopped and she clenched her eyes shut, feeling him draw a finger through her slit. He moved torturously slow, snugly adding a second digit to glide back and forth through her wet lips. “You could have anyone in here - someone who could give you anything you ever needed.. Wanted.”

People were cheering somewhere in the room, and Lisbet let a shrill whine slip out. Unashamedly lifted her hips, seeking more.

Surprisingly giving, Ivar responded in kind. Languidly sunk those fingers inside of her, instantly making her clench around him. He huffed out a long sigh, brushing his mouth on her forehead.

“And it is me you choose...” The remark was self-deprecating, fingers curling before he drew them out, lingering at her entrance. “Look at me.”

He cradled her head when she did, not caring so much this time to avoid tangling into the base of her scalp. And he swooned at the sight of her, eyes glossy, a faint rose to her cheeks, mouth ajar in a gentle pant.

“Tell me I am yours.”

She had to muffle a sob before speaking; catch her breath. There was a hint of vulnerability that cracked his stony composure. An ounce of nervous expectation that made her void of thought, cleared the room of anyone but them. 

Lisbet sat up a little straighter, ghosted her lips over his. The both of them stared unblinking.

“You are mine.”

 

It was at the next drawing when they took their leave. The audience far too entranced in their prizes to bother noticing the getaway.

The whereabouts of Ivar’s room wasn’t exactly ideal, being just down the hall from the kitchen during an event that packed out the house. But hopefully there was enough noise and music so none would be the wiser - starting with the echo of the door slamming shut.

He finally had her all to himself, and it was like a panicked race to the bed; crutches all but tossed to the floor, heels kicked aside. Lisbet was still plucking bobby pins to let down her updo when Ivar pulled her onto his lap with such force that he almost tipped backward.

Their lips met harshly, teeth bruising, limbs instantly tangling around each other. Ivar reeled at her aggression - his incessant teasing all night having proved its effectiveness, there was hardly a lick of space between them. She tugged his hair to make it fall loose, nails raking over the shaved sides. Yanked on the knot of his tie with impatient fingers, then worked the buttons of his blouse until she could run her palms over his taut chest.

She hardly slowed down when they broke for air. Ivar marveled at her, this wanton thing. Her eyes dark and beady, filled with want and yearning. Curls tousled over her shoulders, breasts near spilling from her tight dress with each gasp for air. And it was all for him.

“I like these on you,” she husked, and Ivar hardly understood until she fingered his suspenders; enjoying them all the more as they framed his bare, muscular torso. She leaned in, sealing her mouth to the crook of his neck while unwinding the straps from his arms. Then just as eagerly sought the buttons of his trousers, wanting to waste no more time in getting them undone.

“So needy for it,” he slurred in delight, leaning back on his hands. But with each brush of her urgent fingers, Ivar hitched beneath her, entirely erect, stiff cock aching to be buried deep inside of her. With each button, his chest heaved a little harder, sweat blooming on his brow. Lisbet had barely finished when he secured her back onto his lap, grunting at the sudden pressure. He grabbed her by the neck, drawing her close. “Going to make yourself come all over my cock, huh?”

She mewled pathetically, pitching forward to claim his mouth again. And while they devoured each other once more, Ivar reached for the switchblade in his back pocket and carefully unsheathed it.

“Stay still,” he murmured at her lips.

Lisbet didn’t bat an eye as he made quick shreds of her panties and tossed them to the floor.

The knife landed on the nightstand, promptly forgotten, and it was another rush of adjustment, more hurried hands pulling at his pants and underwear. Lisbet rolled her hips into his, and he latched on with one hand, the other gripping his cock to nock at her entrance. They were pressed so closely together, all it took was one swift snap of the hips and Ivar was abruptly filling her cunt.

He struggled to see her reaction, his eyes threatening to roll back at the intense alleviation of sinking into her tight heat. Her hands were like small vices on his shoulders, jaw completely slackened to let out a loud, shrill whine, frozen on top of him.

A second sharp thrust and she keeled over, clutching him to stay upright. And with the next, she was coming instantly, wailing as a violent tremor shook her body. Ivar didn’t slow pace, even with the spasms of her cunt clenching around his cock, tempting his own desire for release. Cupping her jaw, he disentangled her from him so he could keep watching, look at her blissed out face as he fucked her from below, almost appearing pained in all its contortion.

“So fucking beautiful,” he rasped at her again, palms cinched on her hips, forcing her down on him to meet each of his thrusts. His eyes fell to her breasts, taunting him as she bounced.  Then without warning, he seized the brassiere of her dress, bared his teeth with a snarl, and tore it apart - seams bursting with a small explosion of pearls.

They both stilled to watch the beads rain down a scattered mess over their laps and onto the bed, and it only excited Ivar more. He tore into it again, the rip splitting the dress almost perfectly down the middle, freeing her breasts among another shower of pearls, leaving nothing behind but flimsy, naked string.

Lisbet sat agape. “Shit, _Ivar_ -”

“I have been wanting to do that all night,” he interrupted, mouth already honing in. His lips sealed around her nipple, tongue laving and teeth nipping till she squealed and arched into him. He suckled as if quenching his thirst, groaning against her skin, then switched to the other to dole out the same treatment. Kept the former peaked by twisting the hard bud between his fingertips. His eyelids fluttered closed while his hips started up again, the position steadily becoming frustrating as he suddenly felt too restrained, attempting to roll in time with her.

With a lewd-sounding squelch, he released Lisbet’s breast. Pivoted with ease to turn on top of her, using one hand to shift them further across the bed. She kept her thighs dutifully spread for him, tugging the tails of his blouse, breathlessly pleading for more.

But he paused, eyes wide, hoping the image of her would be forever seared in his mind. Stretched over his bed, tits bare and blemished by his spit and teeth. Her hair fanned out around her head, the rest of her body swarmed within a puddle of gleaming pearls.

“You look so good like this,” he all but crooned, lowering himself on top of her to grind his cock against her clit. “It is a shame I don’t have my belt on hand,” he teased before biting her collarbone. “How I would love to mark you up right now. Bruise you.”

“ _Later_ ,” she insisted, cueing the whine that made Ivar shiver.

He chuckled despite himself, groping behind her knee to hastily turn her over. Smothered her beneath him once he resituated between her parted thighs. He gathered her hair away from her face, holding a tight grip on it while swiping his tongue along the shell of her ear. “I will hold you to that.”

A thrill fluttered through Lisbet’s stomach just as Ivar teased at her cunt, then plunged inside of her so suddenly that she flailed and shouted out, fists wringing into the comforter. Ivar showed no mercy in his thrusts; quickly slammed into her over and over so that he could barely think straight or keep a steady rhythm. Only wanted to fuck her - pummel her till she couldn’t move.

“This is what you needed all night, huh, Lis’?” Her response was an unintelligible shriek through gritted teeth. “You want it to hurt?”

The nod was visible with a muffled _‘harder’_ into the blanket, and his chest rumbled with a growl as he picked up even more vigor, hair falling in his face, chest slick with sweat. His knees ached in this position but he wouldn’t slow down, not when he was pounding away, lavishing in the way her body reacted to his. With every clap of their skin, Lisbet became louder and louder, close to screaming each time he filled her. And even with the noise beyond the door, Ivar could hear her voice echoing in the room.

He released her hair and clamped his palm over her mouth, felt her lurch under him almost immediately, pussy throbbing around him while her sobs reverberated into his palm. It was like a bolt to the spine and his cock gave a threatening twitch, but he managed a ferocious grin, knowing full well how much she enjoyed being handled like this.

“Take me so fucking good,” he grunted in her ear, jerking her head back to touch theirs together. She yelped behind his hand when he snagged her dress with the other, tearing it all the more to snake his hand around and painfully squeeze her breast.

“Want to feel you come again, Lisbet. Can you do that for me?” The mere thought of it made his stomach tighten, so close to his release that he had to struggle to hold back. “Want you to soak my cock.. Let me make a mess of you.”

He freed her mouth for just a second and she was already begging. “Yes, Ivar, please - _please_ make me come,” she pleaded, voice raspy and thick.

It didn’t take much; Ivar let go of her breast with a last sharp tweak of her nipple. Moved his hand down her body, slinking between her and the mattress in seek of her clit. He rubbed her vigorously once he found the sensitive nub, rough and fast until he had to cover her mouth again to keep her quiet.

She thrashed as she came, gyrating beneath him in such a way that Ivar followed right after. He was shaking as he pulled out, unable to contain his own long, deep groan as he jerked himself in his fist, shooting streaks of cum up Lisbet’s backside, dousing what was left of that fucking dress and then some.

The sight was admired for a few seconds - the tatters of embroidery, the fancy pearls slick and dripping with his cum, the smear of it along her spine - before he tipped over, slumping on his back beside her.

Eventually, Lisbet huffed, still catching her breath, and tossed her hair over her shoulder to peer at Ivar.

“The dress - was it really neces -”

“You should not provoke me,” Ivar reasoned dryly.

She snorted with laughter, rolling her eyes as she pulled herself through the swarm of pearls to plant a kiss on his cheek - but she was already so tender and sore, making it such a struggle that her lips smushed down his face when she gave out from exhaustion.

Ivar wore a proud sort of expression at that, gave her ass a lazy smack before caressing her thigh.

They both jumped with a start when the door burst open; Lisbet screamed, and Ivar spun around, cradling and shielding her body with his. And after the triple-take, he sputtered furiously.

“What the _fuck_ , Hvitserk?!”

Hvitserk stood in the doorway, twirling a fake pistol around his index finger. “You owe me big time, Brother.”

“Hvitserk - _get out!_ ” Lisbet shrieked.

“Not until I get my cash,” he said, pointing the gun menacingly in their direction. “I just had to front hush money to the kitchen staff due to a little noise complaint.”

Ivar relaxed some, but glared at Lisbet. “The door?”

“I didn’t -” she stuttered, reaching for an excuse. “I was a little distracted!”

  
  
  



End file.
